Peeping Rose
by Kerichi
Summary: Scorpius isn't just a Slytherin, or a Malfoy, or dead sexy. Rose doesn't know how she feels about that.


Rose didn't mind taking the last patrol shift of the night. As new Head Girl, she wanted to set an example of fairness and consideration of others. That she got to walk through the castle without a succession of first-years asking for directions was a bonus. So was being alone with her thoughts. She'd never realised how often people watched her until her dorm-mates and housemates, and even the Hufflepuff girl who stood on the other side of the potting table from Rose in Herbology started asking if she was all right. By the time Rose reached the fifth floor, she had relaxed enough to stop putting on a cheerful front.

" _Boy troubles?"_

A startled curse jumped from Rose's lips. Moaning Myrtle, the ghost who had stuck her head out of the statue of Boris the Bewildered, tittered. "When I was alive, I would have had to eat soap if I'd said such a _dirty_ word." Myrtle floated all the way into the corridor. "Do you know what happens when your mother forces you to eat bars of soap?" Her eyes behind spectral glasses narrowed into slits. "I'll tell you what happens. You _live_ on the toilet, and then you _DIE_ on the toilet!"

"I'm sorry." Rose's mind shied away from gory mental images. "Are you saying that your mum worked at Hogwarts?"

"No." Myrtles's shoulders slumped. "At school I made myself eat them. You won't tell anyone my secret, will you?"

"Of course not! I'm, uh, honoured that you confided in me." _Although I wish you hadn't. I really, really wish you hadn't._

Myrtle's expression turned sly. "I have another secret. One that will make any girl forget her troubles."

"I didn't say I had troubles."

Myrtle drifted closer. She whispered, "I know how it hurts when a special boy doesn't know you exist. When he looks through you to another girl. When he tells you no one wants to have a three-way with ugly, fat ghosts." She sighed when Rose edged away. "We were connecting until the last part. Too much sharing?"

"Definitely. But the rest . . . ." Merlin, it was like she was at the beach house again, pretending to read a book while Teddy and Victoire snuggled together on the other end of the sofa. She'd sworn her crush was long over, but the warmth of his hug and his smile brought the feelings rushing back.

Myrtle's eyes glowed like moonstones. "You want to forget your troubles."

What the hell. "Yes."

Myrtle burst into giggles. "Oh, you will." She floated past the door to the Prefect's bathroom to a spot a few metres beyond. "Stand here and say 'Eye of the beholder'."

Rose followed instructions. A narrow door appeared in the wall.

"Go in, go in!" Myrtle dove through the door.

Rose pulled the iron handle and went inside.

What she'd thought was a room was just a passageway the same width as the door. The walls were bare stone, the only decoration a gilt framed mirror on the left side wall. Rose gazed into the mirror and inhaled sharply. She was looking into the Prefect's bathroom!

The Prefect's bath was as big as a pool, and the boy in the bath was swimming laps. No bubbles obscured the smooth strokes of his arms and legs, or the defined planes of his chest.

"He's come here every night since the beginning of term," Myrtle said. Her voice was a purr. "Isn't he beautiful?"

He looked like a Norse god with his pale, elegantly muscular body and water darkened blond hair. Watching him made it hard to remember why she'd listened to her dad all those years ago. Getting close suddenly seemed like the most brilliant idea. "That's Scorpius Malfoy."

"Mmm…I had a _special_ relationship with his father."

Malfoy was getting out of the bath.

"You should see him when he's not wearing anything," Myrtle said reverently.

Rose shivered. Merlin, the brief he was wearing revealed enough! She held her breath when he bent to pick up a towel. Was he going to take off his swimsuit? _Please do—no, don't. Don't!_ He didn't, but he took enough time drying off for her to admire the width of his shoulders, the flex of muscles in his back, the strong line of his jaw and the symmetry of his lips.

She scrunched her eyes closed. It was bad enough that she'd mooned over Teddy. She refused to get hot and bothered over Scorpius Malfoy's lips! The insanity had to stop. She was a rational being, not a quivering sack of hormones. Malfoy was a person, not a sex object. A person who swam every night for exercise—or maybe for another reason, one he was hiding because it was against the rules. She was the Head Girl. It was her responsibility to find out.

"He's gone into the dressing room now," Myrtle said. "I think I'll stick my face through the wall. Bye!"

 _Oh, stars, I have to leave before he does!_ Rose sprinted out of the room and raced back down the corridor to take the shortest route to Gryffindor Tower. When she reached the seventh floor, a terrible thought struck. What if Myrtle let other girls watch Malfoy _?_ Her heart raced and then skipped a beat. _What if Myrtle decides to let Malfoy watch me?_

"Are you hyperventilating?" a melodious voice asked.

The image of Malfoy on the other side of the mirror, which now allowed viewing from both sides, watching her take her clothes off popped like a soap bubble. Rose turned to the Fat Lady staring at her from her painting. "I—it's urgent that I speak with Professor Longbottom right away. Would you please tell him that I'll be waiting outside his office?"

.

The next evening, Rose was lying concealed to her neck in bubbles, fighting not to imagine Scorpius Malfoy swimming towards her, when Myrtle dropped down from the ceiling to join her in the Prefect's bath.

"Some of the Victorian ghosts are cross with you," Myrtle said. "The mirror was from their era, when everyone concealed their burning passions. They've used it ever since." She clasped a hand to her heaving bosom and then fell back through the water as if fainting. She sprang up next to Rose, hovering on top of the mint green bubbles. "No more sneaky peeks for them and no more looky loos for you."

"I had to tell Professor Longbottom," Rose said.

Myrtle snickered. "It isn't long. A little flat, but not long. Quite pert, actually. He should change his name."

Professor Pertbottom? Myrtle had a gift for cringyness. "Every person who uses this bath has a right to privacy."

Myrtle snapped, "You didn't care about privacy last night!"

Rose released a deep breath. "No."

Myrtle's huffy expression instantly brightened. "Scrummy, wasn't he?"

 _Yes, he was._ "And mysterious," Rose said. "There has to be a reason why he swims every night."

"Ask him."

"That won't work." Rose planned to avoid eye contact with Scorpius Malfoy for the rest of her life. "He might not tell the truth." She asked Myrtle, "Do you think you could follow him around and then bring me back information?"

"Boys call me a stalker when I follow them."

"That's because you let them see you," Rose said. "Malfoy won't. You'll hide."

"Then he'll call me a creeper."

Rose gritted her teeth. "You won't be creepy. No moaning, no heavy breathing. You'll be quiet as a mouse. You'll be a spy."

Myrtle's round face lit up. "Me, a spy?" She simpered. "Spies are terribly glamorous."

.

Over the next few days, Myrtle relayed her intel, as she called it, to her spy master—also not Rose's idea—each night in the Prefect's bathroom. Rose learned that Malfoy did sit-ups and push-ups every morning and night, that his dorm-mate Willoughby looked better dressed than naked, Malfoy's best mate Goyle read business journals, and Malfoy didn't fuss with his hair to get it to fall across his brow like a singer in a boy band. He simply ran his fingers through it. Myrtle also told Rose that Orna Bletchley fancied Malfoy like mad, but that so far he avoided her like dragon pox.

Rose finally lost her patience. "Those are fascinating facts, but I just want to know if he said anything about swimming."

Myrtle pursed her lips thoughtfully. "He and Goyle did whisper something about the lake."

He wouldn't. The Second Task Swim was a Gryffindor legend. Every year since Harry Potter someone bragged that they would be the one to do it, but no one ever did. Who in their right mind would swim for an hour in an icy cold lake inhabited by Grindylows, Merpeople and a giant squid? Rose clambered out of the tub. "When?" she asked Myrtle. "When are they going to the lake?"

"Tonight, I think. It was hard to hear. They were talking in a noisy corridor, and a Hufflepuff ghost came by and started nattering at me, the chirpy bitch." Myrtle gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

"Leave the soap alone," Rose said. She used a Summoning Charm to pull the bath plug and then ran to the dressing room.

Myrtle floated next to her. "Do you think he's going nude swimming?"

"I think he's risking his life for something stupid." Rose threw on her clothes. "I'll tell you about it tomorrow."

"You will?"

Myrtle sounded surprised. Rose paused fastening her robes. "Unless you don't want me to."

"No, no, no, I want to hear _all_ the details."

Rose nodded and hurriedly made her way through the castle. Once she reached the moonlit lawn, she cast a Disillusionment Charm before crossing to the steps leading down to the dock under Hogwarts Castle. If Slytherins were there having a booze up while their housemate risked his life, she would give them all detention and report them to their Head of House! She went down the stairs.

And found a party of one.

Edgar Goyle sat on the dock staring out at the lake. Seeing him there, legs dangling over the water like a young boy who just happened to be intimidatingly huge, Rose almost countered the Disillusionment Charm. Then he shouted, "It's been an hour. Are you still alive?"

Laughter echoed. "I had a few close calls."

"You're mad as a bag of ferrets!"

"That's amazing swimming ferret to you." Malfoy's voice was closer. He was heading for the ladder between her and Goyle. She stepped to the side, away from the ladder and away from the steps.

Malfoy dragged himself up the ladder and collapsed onto the dock. He wore goggles and a black wetsuit made of a thin material that clung like a second skin. His wand was strapped to his thigh. He rested on his back, chest heaving, until Goyle handed him a potion. Malfoy removed his goggles. "Everything looks green with these." He swallowed the contents of the vial. "Strengthening Solution?"

"Or the Draught of Peace. They're both turquoise blue." Goyle took another vial out of his robe pocket. "You should consider labels."

"The fear of taking the wrong potion keeps Willoughby from rifling through my apothecary chest."

Goyle snorted. "What keeps him from borrowing your uniforms?"

"Fear of my Bat-Bogey Hex." Malfoy sat up. "You picked the right one." He sprang to his feet and gave his mate a hand to lift him up. "Your bones are creaking. Did you sit there the whole time?"

"I stood up when I saw flashes of light in the water."

"Revulsion Jinxes," Malfoy said. "Grindylows don't scare easily."

"Unlike you. Your girly shrieks carried across the lake:" Rose caught the flash of Goyle's taunting smile. "Although I thought _you_ were the dumb fuck, not them. You risked your life for nothing. No one else knows you pulled this off."

Malfoy shrugged. "I didn't do it for that." After a pause, he added, "But since you're so anxious about it, maybe you should drink the Draught of Peace." He turned toward the steps. Toward Rose. Grinning.

She held her breath.

Goyle told him where to stick the vial. The two bantered about the impossibility of sticking anything through an Elf-made hydrodynamic suit, and then they left to sneak into the kitchen for Butterbeers. She stayed on the dock, trying to get her head around what she'd seen and heard. Malfoy had done something brave and daring. He'd trained and planned and risked his life, and it wasn't to show off for his housemates or show up his rivals. He'd done the swim for himself.

Scorpius.

Rose didn't know how to feel about that. It was too strange. Too new. She decided to think about it later, once her heart stopped pounding and she got used to the idea that he wasn't just a Slytherin, or a Malfoy, or dead sexy.

And after that, maybe she'd get up the nerve to make eye contact.

.

* * *

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A/N: Thanks so much to all the reviewers of **Rose is Better** who wanted a pre Our Little Secret Story from Rose's pov. You truly inspired! In the first draft, Pertbottom was Nicebottom, but then I came across an article about a photo spread of the actor who played Neville and Jason Isaacs/Lucius Malfoy tweeting: Surely Neville Pertbottom now? and had to use it. :D


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